The Ryan Family
by gleeme33
Summary: "The Addams Family". A new family moves to Lima, and Finn and Blaine are interested. But there's something a little different about the Ryan Family...they're creepy and they're kookie, mysterious and spooky, they're altogether ookie... Finchel. Klaine.
1. Prolog

**Based on the concept of "The Addams Family". Just a quick thing for now, I don't know how many shots it'll be or even if it'll turn into a full-on story or anything. If so, I'll plan/organize accordingly. Thanks and enjoy.**

_The Ryan Family_

Bryan Ryan (Gomez Addams): The head of the household; husband of Sue and father of Rachel and Kurt. He is very wealthy due to investments, inheritance, and most importantly his success in show business. Bryan has a "ghoulish" sense of humor and raised his children with his "family values" as well. He is originally of Castilian origin, making his son and daughter French and Castilian.

Sue Ryan (Morticia Addams): Originally, her surname was "Sylvester" before she married Bryan, and loves him with the same grim passion that he loves her. Also like her husband, she believes in the family values of "family first, family last, and family by and by". She is originally of French origin, therefore her children are French and Castilian. Sue has a pet mouse-eating plant named Cleopatra.

Rachel Ryan (Wednesday Addams): The daughter of Bryan and Sue, Rachel and her brother both inherited her father's love of performance. She has the most outward need to physically harm other people of anyone in the family, often attempting to kill her brother for no reason. As a child, she beheaded her Barbie dolls for fun. She has a pet spider named Homer.

Kurt Ryan (Pugsley Addams): The youngest of the Ryan family, he was taught to endure all the craziness around him. His sister often tried to kill him in their childhood, which he viewed as fun and games. He is thought of as the most "normal" of his family, but shows a great interest when his grandmother teaches him and his sister about has witchcraft, potion making, and fortune telling. Like his sister and father, he loves to sing, dance and act. He has a pet lizard named Aristotle.

Uncle David (Uncle Fester): He is the bumbling, stuttering brother of Bryan. Although his traits would make him seem awkward, he has many women around him all the time due to his good looks. David carries an electrical charge and can turn on a light blub by putting it in his mouth.

Grandmama (Grandmama Addams): The old, ex-Nazi-hunter mother of Sue. She spends her time making potions, telling fortunes, trying to practice witchcraft, and summoning the Ryan family ancestors, the last of which she teaches her grandchildren.

Brad (Lurch): The silent butler of the family. He serves them as a normal butler would, though he has not taken up the dark views of the Ryan family. He plays the piano in order to accompany Bryan, Rachel, Kurt, or all of them when needed.

_Prolog _

"I can't _believe _we left New York!" Rachel moaned. Kurt sighed, rolling his suitcase into their new house, and looked around. His sister had been droning 'I can't _believe _we left New York!' since they got on the plane to come to Ohio, and all through the drive from Columbus to Lima.

"Oh, come on!" Kurt said to his sister, who walked into the house after him. "I know Lima's no NYC, but it can be just as terrible here, too! I mean…people can be cut-throat and cruel everywhere, right?"

"Don't try to put a miserable spin on it, Kurt," His sister retorted. "We're going to have to deal with that – that _lovable _Midwestern _charm_…" she fake-gagged dramatically and Kurt did the same, realizing that – unfortunately – the people here would be perfectly _civil_…

"Okay, kids!" Their father announced walking in with their mother, both of them with even more suitcases. "The master bedroom belongs to your mother and I, and your Uncle and Grandmama are already setting up in their rooms, so that makes three left. One goes to each of you, and the last to Brad, so go kill each other for the best one!" At the words 'go kill each other', Rachel squeaked:

"So…you're giving me back my homicide privileges?"

"As long as you don't misuse them again, then yes," their mother said. "But what did we say about trying to _literally _kill your brother?"

"Family members are not victims…" Rachel deadpanned, blinking her big eyes. "So can I have my crossbow back? _Please_?"

"It's packed, Rachel, we'll get it to you later," Bryan told his daughter. "Now go pick your rooms so I can be alone with your mother!"

"Great, thanks…" Rachel droned as she and Kurt raced up the stairs. "I'm _so glad _I know _that_!" The siblings made it up the stairs, and after a quick examination of the second floor, both knew that the room at the end of the hall was clearly the largest. They both zoomed down the hall, and slammed into the door at exactly the same time, both Kurt and his sister flying into the large soon-to-be bedroom.

"I got here first!" He shouted. "It's _my _room!"

"No, it's _mine_!" His sister yowled. "If you don't just suck it up – because _I _got here first – I'll electrocute you again!"

"_Mom_!" Kurt yelled to his mother downstairs. "Rachel said she'd electrocute me again!"

"What did we _just agree on_, young lady?" Sue's voice boomed.

"Sorry, Mom!" Just then, their grandmother sluggishly moved in between the two children. She looked at both of them, then slowly mewed:

"Shall we consult the ancestors about this?"

"No need, Grandmama, Kurt can have it," Rachel said, and started to walk down the hall.

"Don't talk like that to me!" Kurt quipped after her.

"Like what?"

"_Nice_!" He barked. "Don't be _nice _to me!"

"Well…I'm _not sorry_!"

"That's more like it, sis," Kurt said, just before shutting his new bedroom door. "That's more like it."

**Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Reviews?**


	2. Welcome To McKinley

**I just saw the touring production of **_**The Addams Family **_**last night – it was **_**so **_**funny! I loved it! I think this may turn into a full-on story…I don't know yet. Here's hoping for the best. I go back to school tomorrow and start tech week for the musical I'm in, so I won't be able to update too much, just letting you know. Please review! Thanks and enjoy.**

_Chapter One_

"Daddy…" Rachel batted her eyelashes at their father that morning. She only called their father 'Daddy' when she really wanted something – or to get out of something, that is. "Do we _really _have to go to a _normal _school? I mean…we're _Ryan's _for the Death's sake! Do you _really _want to expose your beloved children to the – the _happiness _of high school kids?"

"Oh, c'mon now, Rach," Bryan started, busy fencing with Sue, foil sparking on foil. "Give it a chance, will you? From what I've heard, high school kids can be pretty cruel!" Rachel scoffed and continued down the stairs towards her parents. Kurt, who was still upstairs, knocked on his Grandmama's door.

"Yes?"

"Grandmama – do you have any potions for courage?" He asked, entering the old woman's room.

"_Courage_?" She mouthed, mauled it over, and finally told her grandson: "You've got plenty of courage, m'a boy – it's right here!" She pointed to a stop around his chest area, so Kurt added:

"In my heart?"

"No!" The old woman yowled. "In all the scars your sister's given you from trying to kill you over the years! You know what that does to y'a? It makes you _brave_, kid. Brave and _strong_ – and _courageous_. Get it?"

"Got it, Grandmama," Kurt surrendered. "Thanks," he added, and headed downstairs after his sister.

Bryan had now convinced Brad to be the one fencing with him – the father of the family waved his foil wildly about; Brad characteristically kept his unmoving. Kurt and Rachel's dad would occasionally yell out a 'ha!' or an 'ah-ha!', but Brad proved that slow and steady wins the race – when Bryan was too busy being full of himself, the butler poked him silently with his foil. He gave it to his employer and stalked away without a word. Kurt dreaded – and not in the good way – the ticking of the clock closer and closer to the time when they had to leave for school. He didn't want to start a new school – he didn't even want to _leave_ _New York_, even if he was less vocal about it than Rachel was. He didn't want to leave all the unhappiness he once had at home behind. He didn't want to start over…

"Shouldn't you kids be going by now?" Sue, their mother asked.

"N-no…" Rachel responded, even though the answer was clearly 'yes'.

"Go on to school," their Uncle David bumbled, nearly falling into the kitchen. "I'm sure you'll both have a miserable time! Maybe join a club or two!"

"That's a great idea," Sue added. "And make some friends, will you?"

"I am _not _looking forward to this," Rachel told her brother once they were both in the car, starting the drive. "I'm so un-depressed I don't even want to nail your tongue to the rearview mirror."

"Maybe it'll be worse then we think," Kurt tried to cheer his sister up. "Maybe we'll both meet some nice boys to be miserable with!"

"I doubt it, in this _look-how-cheery-we-are_, one-horse town!"

The rest of the ride was pretty much silent. When they arrived at the school and got out of the car, Kurt felt like his nerve endings might explode. The first clique that the Ryan children – and anyone in the school, really – noticed were the jocks. Though they more than likely blackmailed nerds with slushie facials if they didn't do their calculus homework, they were all really, really hot. Then there were the popular cheerleader types – or, as their jackets proclaimed, the 'Cheerios'. _Gross_, Rachel thought. _Obviously over-peppy, fake displayers of estrogen and hair-flipping. Nauseating, that's way they are. Stomach-turning. _Then came the goths, aka the kids who were trying too hard. Rachel admired their enthusiasm, but they certainly didn't have the spirit or real black-hole-state-of-mind to back it up.

Lastly, there were a handful of kids huddled together in the hall, conversing and sneaking small glances at them. There was a girl in a shirt that spelled out _diva _in rhinestones, a boy in a wheelchair, a mousey-looking Asian girl, a blonde boy, a smaller Irish boy, and another boy with a bowtie. Kurt couldn't help starring at him. Finally, he stopped just _looking_ at the Ryan boy; he got up, went over to them and said:

"Hi! I'm Blaine, are you guys new here? Don't worry about it, I was new here not that long ago, you'll be fine. Want to come sit with us before the first bell?" Kurt just kept gazing into his eyes, mouth agape; his sister had to elbow him for him to respond:

"S-sure. I'm Kurt. Kurt Ryan. Th-this is my sister, Rachel."

"Hi," she said simply, with blazing eyes and no emotion. They followed this 'Blaine' over to the secluded group.

"Hey!" The girl with the _diva _shirt said. "I'm Mercedes Jones – Blaine, are these new recruits?"

"Recruits?" Kurt blinked. For what?

"Oh, sorry I'm late. I don't think we've all been introduced," said a new voice, coming their way. Rachel whipped around and saw that the voice belonged to a guy – a jock within himself, that is – who was tall and hansom and…beautiful. He had nice brown hair and a cute half-smile, with a sort of adorably dopy look to him. He seemed nice enough, too…

_Disgusting._

"I'm Finn," he continued to say. "And you are?"

"Rachel. Rachel Ryan."

"Nice to meet you."

"Oh, yeah – _pleasure_."

"And I'm Kurt," her brother jumped in. "Don't mind my sister, she's in her own little world." The football player named 'Finn' laughed his too-adorable laugh and said:

"That's okay, my mom says that about me, too. You guys have already met Blaine and Mercedes – this is Artie, Tina, Sam, and Rory. And I think what they meant by 'recruits' was for New Directions – our glee club."

Rachel wanted to die from all the horrible happiness. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and fill her thoughts with macabre and horror and gore and sweet, sweet gruesomeness. Damn her parents for making her come to this place. Damn her parents from taking her away from her City, the place of her dreams. Damn this guy named Finn for being so _sweet_! Rachel pictured how she'd kill him if she got the chance. First, she thought, she'd strap him to an electric chair and listen to him scream. No, she decided, death by arrows from her crossbow would be better. She could stab his arms; rip his eyes out. She could make him drink poison and nail his mouth closed. She could…_ugh_. Rachel decided it didn't matter. It didn't matter _how _it happened, but one thing was for sure. This 'Finn' guy…

He was her next victim.

**Review?**


	3. Not Normal

**Hey guys. I incorporated a lot of things from The Addams Family movies in this chapter, but other than that, not a lot to say here. Remember to review. Thanks and enjoy.**

"_Wednesday is full of woe. She is wane and delicate…sensitive and on the quiet side, she loves the family picnics and outings to the underground caverns…a solemn child, prim in dress and, on the whole, pretty lost…secretive and imaginative, poetic, seems underprivileged and given to occasional tantrums. She has six toes on one foot…emotionless on the outside, but inside, she is so sad…_" – Mr. Charles Addams, the original creator of _The Addams Family_ (on Wednesday Addams, the character Rachel is based on)

_Chapter Two_

When Rachel Ryan was a little girl, she cherished very few, very certain things – for one, her pet spider, Homer. He was a best friend to her, like a dog or a cat or a hamster is to a 'normal' little girl. Homer was a good, energetic, loving spider – Rachel got to watch him happily kill flies for as long she wanted, and she could have hours on end if her mother let her. Her childhood could be summed up into three categories, really – drawing, singing, and death. That was it. Rachel was always a talented artist – she'd watch Homer all day and illustrate what she saw to the T, the eyes of the spider on her paper glowing with the same ravenous animosity of Homer's. Singing, of course – her father was a performer still for most of the girl's childhood and, for a while, she wanted to be just like him. Sooner rather than later, a young Rachel Ryan realized that singing wasn't just something she did because her father did – she loved it in a fiery, fierce, competitive way that would eventually fuel her ambition to be the absolute best. And then, of course, _death_…

When Rachel was about five or six, she one day asked her mother:

"Mommy, do you think I'm not normal?"

"Why would you say that?" Her mother asked back to the small, little girl.

"Well…" Rachel studied her shoes. "It's just…at school, it's…for a while now…well, everyday really – "

"– What is it, Rachel?" Sue asked in honest concern.

"The girls always say I'm not normal."

"Define 'normal', sweetheart," was her mother's response.

Rachel said nothing.

"Exactly," Sue continued, putting her arms around her daughter. "Normal is relative, Rachel. What's normal for the spider is a calamity for the fly. Understand?"

Rachel nodded, but inside she still could not understand _why _she was so swiftly labeled 'not normal'.

"Homer?" She murmured to her spider as he wove in his web in the attic. "Do you think I'm…not normal?" Homer continued to weave in silence.

That day, something happened to little Rachel Ryan. She wasn't born so death-obsessed, so Byronic, so anger-filled as she is now – yes, that day something happened to little Rachel Ryan. On the attic floor, next to some of her scattered drawings of her beloved Homer, the girl found a Barbie doll she had forgotten to put away. _Snap_. It was so easy. All she had to do was yank, and Barbie's head came clean off. Then, with the help of her brother Kurt, Rachel dragged her toy box up to the attic. _Snap. Snap. _Two more headless Barbie's, just like that. _Snap. Snap. _It was so easy. _Snap. Snap_. Her parents of course were concerned, but it was her Grandmama that said:

"She's just expressing herself. You shouldn't discourage it, you should _encourage _it."

The next Christmas, under the tree Rachel found her first weapon of destruction – her crossbow. _Wow_, was her fist thought at seeing it, all wrapped up under the green pine needles. On it's highest automatic speed, it could shoot over two hundred arrows in a minute, and on manual, she could do all that herself. _Wow_. This made her stay alone even more, either in the attic practicing her aim or outside in some woods that were walking distance away from the family penthouse in New York City, shooting arrows at whatever unlucky animal would trot or fly by. Eventually, having small animals at her mercy was no longer enough for Rachel – she had to step it up somehow.

"Go sit in the chair, Kurt," she whispered to her brother one day as she cornered him in her attic. 'The chair' wasn't just _a chair _at all – no, it was an electric chair.

"Why?"

"We're going to play a game."

"A game?" Her brother asked, wide-eyed. "What game?"

"It's a _new_ game," Rachel added, pushing her brother into the chair. It's called 'Is There A God?'."

That's when it became obsessive.

As Rachel grew older, her dark hair would never again be pulled away from her face in her once signature braids – now it forever draped down her pale face, her amber eyes now almost darker than they once were. Her lips were redder, her face was paler, and her teeth and nails were sharper. Or, at least, they all _seemed_ that way. She spent most of her time up in the attic, for a period, always away from everyone but Homer. Members of the family other than Kurt, who could coax her downstairs just long enough to sing at the piano with him, would hardly ever see her. One summer, their parents sent the two Ryan siblings to a summer camp called Camp Ricci. It was in New York State, outside of the city, and nestled quietly in the woods by a huge lake. Miss Carolina, the camp leader talked to every kid and their present parent before giving them their t-shirt and cabin number; when it got to the Ryan children, Kurt was happy to talk it up while his sister was dead silent.

"Rachel's at that age when a girl has only one thing on her mind," her mother said.

"Boys?" The camp leader guessed. Rachel's answer, however, was:

"Homicide."

And while Kurt and some of his friends discovered paddle-boating and toad-catching that sunny summer by the lake, Rachel Ryan discovered something, too. His name was Lucas – Lucas Beineke – and he was her first kiss.

"Rachel?" He murmured one day. "Do you ever plan on falling in love?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because love requires happiness," she answered. "And happiness makes me miserable."

"Well…maybe, we could be miserable together."

Lucas Beineke was her first kiss. Lucas Beineke was her first victim.

And Finn Hudson was next.

Rachel and Kurt had been in school at McKinley for about two months now when a loud banging was heard up in the attic of their new house in Ohio.

"C'mon up here, Kurt!" Rachel yowled now, down to her brother. "I just finished unpacking the attic! Look what I found!"

"Oh, God – not the chair!" Her brother called.

"Yes – the chair! Get up here, we're going to play the game!"

"Not the game!" Kurt moaned as he clomped up the stairs and appeared in the attic.

"But the game is _fun_," his sister insisted.

"The game is _creepy_," he countered.

"_Duh_!"

"What's up with you?" Kurt retorted as he slumped down on an old couch, and not the chair as his sister had just wanted. "I thought you were _un_-depressed, what snapped you out of it?"

"I don't know," Rachel answered. "I just need to _kill _something!"

"Ooh so it's about a boy?" Her brother whistled. "Is it about Finn Hudson?"

"I could ask you the same thing about Blaine Anderson!"

"Ah, touché!" Kurt commented. "But really…don't turn this into a Lucas Beineke situation…you _just _got your homicide privliages back, do you want to loose them again?"

"It's just…ever since the first day, when we met him, I…I don't know. I feel like…like…"

"Like you _like _him?" He suggested.

"I don't know!" Rachel spat quickly. "It's not normal."

**Review?**


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